Time and Tide
by Hellwriter
Summary: Killed in the same accident, two teens must come to terms with their now-eternal lives. Co-authored with ThePink1 at Reefside dot Net.
1. Chapter 1

**Time and Tide**

_A Crossover Collaboration by: A J & TNT_

Ritchie Ryan looked at the pair of anxious intellectuals behind him, grinned, and spoke into the mike on the tiny stage at Joe's. "Yeah, that's right, they don't own anything here, with the exception of this plot, and a couple O C's they had to invent 'cause we're all busy. Ciao." A J turned to the older man next to her as the biker ran away laughing.

"What kind of Disclaimer was _that,_ Uncle Tom?" A J asked. He shrugged.

"A free one," he replied, and ordered a round of sodas for them from Joe Dawson. "To our story, kiddo. Many happy returns."

Chapter One:

Cassidy's first sojourn into the afterlife wasn't totally unexpected considering her job. She was a Guardian of the Veil, and she died in an avalanche caused by a magic-wielding enemy. The real surprise had been the identity of the enemy; her former team member and best friend, Nerissa.

Forty-odd years later, (long enough for her friends to grow old, have kids – in Yanni's case, grandkids – and for Halli to die of cancer,) Rissi managed a comeback, including Cassidy's resurrection. C.H.K.Y.N. reigned once again across the infinite dimensions for a brief while, only to be betrayed and imprisoned by their ally-of-opportunity, Phobos.

Their successors, W.I.T.C.H., defeated their common enemy, and freed all of them – except Rissi. Nerissa they locked away in the same gem she'd thought to imprison her former team and the teen Queen of Meridian.

So Cassidy was given the unbelievable chance to restart her interrupted life. With the help of her family, (to whom she professed to be her own long-lost daughter,) and her new friends W.I.T.C.H.E., she settled in and went back to school, hoping to still become a pediatrician. Despite having to learn an entire extra field of study, she was doing relatively well. Computers had been in their infancy at the time of her demise, so her cousin Dean had to help her with the basics.

It took until after Easter to get her old scooter running. Her mother Emily MacLean, either from sorrow or apathy, had just left it in the corner of the garage. Saving up for the license, hers _and_ the scooter's, took until May, and then she had to wait out a late burst of spring squalls. Once the West Virginia roads had returned to a solid state, she took her aging Vespa out for a trial drive.

Unfortunately, months of riding on city busses hadn't prepared her for a one-on-one with the fast-paced traffic of forty years later. Cassidy MacLean was the inadvertent cause – and the only casualty – in a twelve-car fender-bender less than a mile from her house.

… Or so she thought …


	2. Chapter 2

**Time and Tide**

_A Crossover Collaboration by: A J & TNT_

A J & T N T

Hugh Fitzcairn unfurled the scroll he'd been presented with a flourish. This job as the Royal Court Announcer for Queen Mary had its perks, certainly. Public acknowledgement of his hard-earned reading skills for one, and the pay was nothing to sniff at, either. All the randy ladies-in-waiting he could partake in was the best though, as far as he was concerned. Like the cute red-head who'd handed him this latest announcement, for example. He'd let his fingers slide over hers with a wink as they exchanged the notice, and she had curtsied back with a warm smile. With an internal sigh for the wait, he got down to business.

"Hear ye, hear ye! Be it known that the original characters and situations contained herein are the sole creation of the Authors; Any other recognizable persons are the intellectual property of Rysher Productions and Disney Entertainment respectively. Thank you for your patronage." Murmuring overtook the Scottish Court, and he looked around in confusion. The red-head was gone, and Fitz turned to the young Queen when she demanded an answer for the unknown announcement.

"Are we figments of the imagination, then?" she thundered.

"Honestly, milady Majesty, I just read them," he gulped.

Chapter Two

Martin Tubbs was running perpetually late, as usual. His mother was taking him to the optometrist before his date with Irma tonight. _'She finally said yes!'_ he gloated for the umpteenth time, watching out the windshield of the family car with unfocused eyes. His glasses lay broken (again) in his lap. As they got to the next intersection, he caught a peripheral glimpse of a shock of red hair.

"Hey, isn't that Wi..?" He never got to complete the question, as the guy in front of them slammed on his brakes, to the horrible screech of metal.

The dozen cars at the intersection, half on each side, all mashed together from there. A large chunk of jagged glass came in through the open window, and clipped Martin right between the eyes, knocking him out. In the ensuing chaos, his injury went unnoticed, and he bled out before anyone was the wiser, even his mother.

Martha Tubbs was getting back in her car, after exchanging insurance information with the drivers before and behind them, when she saw the amount of blood all over her son's side of the Volvo. "Martin?" she asked. She reached out to check on him, just as sirens were heard in the distance.

"Martin, are you all right?" She entreated, and laid a tentative hand on his shoulder.

Martha had to fight back a shriek as his head lolled against the seatbelt. His eyes were glassy and vacant, and the metallic scent of the blood from his forehead reminded her of the smell from a deer-cleaning. _"Martin?"_ she hoarsed, and her eyes teared up.

She was crying wildly on his arm when one of the perpetually under-staffed ambulance crews worked its way through the tangle of cars to her on their way to the epicenter of the accident.

"This one's a goner," the older EMT said, quickly checking for a pulse and not surprised at finding none. "Sorry." Martha just wailed louder as he and his partner continued forward.

That was the state of things when sixteen-year-old Martin Tubbs reawaked to the living world with a moan for the terrible headache he had. "Ow, Mom, can ya keep it … Mom, why're you crying?"

"Mar … Martin?" Barely believing her eyes, Martha watched as her freshly-dead son sat up straighter and took off his seatbelt. She could have sworn … and hadn't the EMT said ..? "Martin … what's going on? You were just …" She hesitated, and then leaned in and whispered, "_Dead!"_

"Mom, how could I be dead? I feel fine! I …" Martin stalled out as he noticed the sheer volume of blood covering him, and pulled down the visor mirror to get a better look. "Well, there's your answer, mom … Everyone knows scalp wounds bleed the worst. I feel fine, honest!" He continued to reassure her during the hour's wait it took emergency services to clear out the intersection and send the still–shaken mother and now–sticky son home again. The harried EMT who had originally proclaimed him dead didn't even remember it when they walked back past.

… But his partner did …


	3. Chapter 3

**Time and Tide**

_A Crossover Collaboration by: A J & TNT_

Duncan answered the phone on its fourth ring, just before the answering machine could get it. "This is Mac … Joe! Hey, we were just talking about you … an hour ago …" He grinned across at his new bride; Kate could be _very_ distracting when she wanted to be. She raspberried him back.

"_Yeah, happy honeymoon, you two,"_ Joe laughed at the other end of the line. _"Hey, listen. I got a quick favor to ask. A friend is sending over a text, and wants you to read it out loud. You willing?"_

"Out loud?" Mac asked, putting Joe on speaker, so Kate could hear this too.

"_Something about the brogue,"_ Joe's laughter was evident in his voice. Duncan sighed, and Kate chuckled.

"All right," Mac said finally. "Send it over." He cleared his throat, and used his most outrageous old Scots accent. "Righ' Thes stoory is teh sool breenchuild uv Ey Jey an' Tomm. Teh keerachtairs cuntained heerein arr teh prropairty uv theer creatoors, an' noo coppyrigh' infringemint is intended. Injooy teh stoory." He rolled his eyes at Kate, who was laughing uproariously behind him, now. "Oh, shut it; like you're any better when you want to be."

"_Thanks. Mac,"_ Joe replied, hung up, and died laughing.

Chapter Three

Cassidy came to in the morgue. It was leaps and bounds better than it could have been, she supposed. At least she was on an exam table, under a sheet, instead of locked in one of the hermetically-sealed cold-cabinets nearby. That would have meant her death anyway, by slow asphyxiation. She shuddered at the thought, then shuddered again at the chill starting to overtake her laying on the metal slab.

'_Wait a minnow,_' she thought to herself, then giggled at her own pun. Damn Irma and her comedy album collection anyway; Cassidy wasn't even sure which tune her fellow Water Guardian had played for her to blame that one on. "How in Heart's name did I get here?"

She obviously wasn't dead. She could tell simply because she was breathing. In all the movies, not breathing meant not living, right? She held her next breath just to check, and after a couple minutes, had to let it out in an explosive exhalation to gasp in fresh air. Nope … not dead.

So what was she doing in the morgue? Cassidy sat up, and hurriedly grabbed the tumbling sheet when she realized she was naked under it. '_What the ..?_' She glanced at her chest behind the sheet, and blew out a breath with relief. She hadn't been autopsied, at least.

That brought a fresh worry. If she was in the morgue, then that meant someone had thought she _was_ dead. '_Why ..?_' Then she remembered the accident. Her Vespa, already super-tuned originally by a well-meaning boyfriend back in the sixties to keep up with city traffic then, hadn't been nearly fast enough o get out of the way of the wildly-swerving Chrysler just now.

Cass poked her right leg out from under the sheet and gave it a good looking-over. She had a last memory of the '_Crack!_' when the car struck, and then … nothing. If her leg had been smashed like she thought she'd felt, she should have been a mangled mess all along the right side, starting at the ribs. But all she saw was an odd bit of bruising around her knee, and even that looked as if it was older than just a few hours …

There was a noise from out in the hall, and she was suddenly glad she still had both legs after all. Cassidy scrambled off the metal table, taking the sheet with her by necessity. She did her best to wind it around herself toga-style as she scampered into an unlit corner and behind a cabinet.

Low voices came next, but they made no sense; and to someone whose past had been as extraordinary as Cassidy's, that was just another reason to worry.

"You sure about this, Amanda? I'm pretty sure grave robbing is the _least_ they can charge us with, here," a rough male voice said.

"Would you relax? I'm telling you, we've got to get in here before someone takes a scalpel to the poor newbie, only to have them wake up in the middle of it all." The second voice, feminine and urgent, laughed suddenly. "I can see it now. _'Pardon me, but have you finished weighing my spleen? I'm going to be needing it back, now …'_" the mystery woman continued in a falsetto bass. The man groaned, and then the door opened.

Cassidy couldn't help herself; she chanced a peek at this pair as they entered. The man she'd heard first was so obviously a cop that Cass had to bite back a laugh. He walked into the room sideways, looking every which way with wary eyes. He was kind of hunky, she guessed, but _wayyyy_ too jumpy, as evinced when he whipped around after his companion turned on the lights.

"Amanda!" he said hoarsely, and spun to look back through the tiny window in the shutting door. He turned back to glare balefully at the woman in question, and so did Cass.

She was perfect, as far as Cass could tell from her hiding place. Amanda was just the right height, perfectly built, and moved with the self-assurance of a woman who knew exactly what she wanted out of life, and wasn't afraid to go after it.

"Oh, relax, Nick. Our neophyte's here; I can feel them. We just have to find him - or her - before the hospital realizes that autopsy request is for a body that is no longer in residence. It's just a good thing I happened by and moved it to the coroner's 'out' tray before he read it and came down here."

Cassidy blinked in shock. These people were here, _in the morgue_, looking for someone who _wasn't dead_, on purpose! No way was it a coincidence. With all the poise of the seasoned magical warrior she'd once been, Cass stepped out from behind the corner cabinet.

"Who _are_ you people?" She concentrated, trying to draw enough moisture out of the air around her to make a water-bomb in her hand behind her back, (one of her old stand-bys, and a guaranteed distraction in case she had to run for it,) only to find her efforts thwarted by the ultra-efficient modern climate-control system of the Heatherfield Hospital's morgue.

"Ow, hey, what're you _doing?"_ Amanda demanded, grimacing. Her companion looked clueless though, so Cassidy decided not to say anything. She did give up on the water-bomb idea in the too-dry room, though. She still had other tricks up her sleeve if worse came to worse, after all.

"Ugh, what was that?" Amanda demanded. "Your quickening filled the room for a second…"

"My what?" Cassidy asked, suddenly as confused as Nicky by the door.

"Your personal energy. All immortals have it. It's how we can tell when another of us is near. When you're as practiced as I am, you can learn to tell things about the other by the feel of their quickening. But yours… you just took over the room, darling. What's your name?" Amanda smiled widely, winningly. Fortunately, Cassidy was good friends with someone a lot like her, and wasn't taken in by the snow job.

"Hello, Amanda, Nick. I'm Cassidy. So, I'm an immortal, huh? I hope this isn't how you say hello to _all_ the newbies?"

"Er, no … not really," Amanda sighed, when she saw that their neophyte was almost as poised as herself. You had to admire a girl who could wake up in the morgue and immediately engage in sparkling repartee. "Look, sooner or later, someone's gonna come down here looking for your recently-deceased keister. Care to take this conversation somewhere else?"

"Recently … then I really _did_ die in that accident?" Cassidy asked, and her eyes held a depth of emotions Amanda, hardened as she was by her own centuries of existence, still found she had to look away from.

"Yes and no," Nick said first, still looking out the window every few seconds. "Your body did cease to do all that we call living, for a while. But once your system had a chance to reboot, you woke right back up again as if it had never happened."

Cassidy mouthed '_reboot?_' to herself, unfamiliar with the computer-eze term still, then held out her right leg for display. "And what about all the damage? I distinctly remember the car accident, and I shouldn't even _have_ a leg right now ..."

Amanda stepped toward her newest foundling, taking in the younger girl's undamaged body. "Car accident, hmmmm? Standard fare, nowadays, sadly. It must not have completely severed, or it wouldn't have grown back together. That's the only way for one of us to permanently lose a part. It's unfortunately the only way we can die, as well. Simple version, don't lose your head, darling."

"You're telling me I'm lucky it was _just_ a car accident, then?" Cass countered.

"Oh, yeah. Look, we definitely need to take this somewhere else … Cassidy, was it?" She waited for a nod in acknowledgement. "And we positively _have_ to get you some new clothes. Toga's were out of style when _I_ died the first time, darling."

"Er, I'm taking night classes to become a nurse here, and work in the laundry to cover the class fees. It's just down the hall …" Cassidy supplied. She led the way, hoping news of her second untimely demise hadn't had a chance to reach her house, yet. She really didn't think her aging mother could take the news again.

… She was never so glad to be wrong …


	4. Chapter 4

**Time and Tide**

_A Crossover Collaboration by: A J & TNT_

The world's oldest Immortal sat back, looking at his newest Watcher's Council e-mail again. "Joe, Joe, Joe; What have you gotten yourself into this time?" He read through the weird Chronicle again, shaking his head. "And what the #&][ does this mean at the end? _'Standard disclaimer Applies'_?" Methos took a drink of his imported pilsner. (He didn't care what the others said, he'd been imbibing since fermented brewing was _invented_. Germans made the best &#* beer, period.) "I hope I don't get wrangled into this circus."

Chapter Four

The minute he got home that evening, Paramedic Angelo Dawson called his great-uncle Joe. He had to try three times before there was an answer at Dawson's Pub & Grill.

"_You'se got Joe's, it's happy owah, whattiya still doin' home?"_ came a campy Jersey voice over the line. Angelo rolled his eyes_. "You'se caught us inna middle uva rush heah. Leave a message."_ A second later a long beep sounded.

"Hey, Uncle Joe, It's Angelo, your niece Kate's kid, calling from Heatherfield. I'd appreciate a return call, A.S.A.P. It's a professional matter, and it needs watching." He hung up quickly, hoping that the mysterious message would make the right kind of sense. His Uncle had inducted him into the family's 'other' business when he turned 18, but there hadn't been any active assignment at the time. Angelo had decided to go to school, and with the insider's info he had, he'd decided to keep and eye out for the strange and unusual with expediency, if not a big paycheck.

Little had he known that the six-month stint in suburban West Virginia, which the big company he'd applied to had recommended before they moved him to an inner-city run with more action, would net him a case just like he'd been looking for. So here he sat, Angelo Dawson, rookie Watcher, with his first Immortal. It almost relieved him that his charge was a stripling rookie as well. It meant he was (_Hopefully!_) less likely to go haring off in search of fellow Immortals' heads right away, like they had in the heydays of dueling. Angelo certainly didn't envy his uncle's assignment, the trouble magnet Duncan MacLeod.

Logging onto the Watcher's web-site, he filed an _'Initial sighting'_ report, only just remembering Martin's last name at the end before he posted it.

He got back an _'Acknowledged; no prior recorded sightings,_' and signed out. Google© was next. All that came up after a full search was a birth announcement and a series of yearly Honor Student listings for Martin Victor Tubbs, all for academics.

'_Oh boy,_' Angelo thought, and dialed Joe's Pub again.

"_Yello_," came over the line, and Angelo looked heavenward in thanks.

"Hey, Uncle Joe, it's Angelo."

"_Angie! How ya doin', kiddo! Katie told me you graduated with honors. Where'd you end up?"_

"Ah, that's just it, Uncle Joe. I'm in Heatherfield, West Virginia, and I just ran into somebody you should meet. They're in our family business."

"_Whoa, you're not talking ..?"_

"Yeah, just like good old Mr. Nash," Angelo replied, his voice equally strained with nerves.

"_You said Heatherfield?"_ Angelo could hear typing from Joe's end for a minute. _"Okay, I can have someone out to give you a hand with some tools of the trade by morning after next. Angelo. Think you can keep tabs on things in the meantime?"_

"Shouldn't be a problem, Uncle Joe; I do have one additional request. Could we spare a tutor?"

"_What kind?"_

"Uh, _all_ of it, actually. He's new. _Brand_ new, still in high school, and nothing like your old pal, Ryan."

"_Jesus… alright, I'll make a couple calls, see if we can find us a mentor. Do what you can with him in the meantime, Angie. I'll give you a buzz when I've heard something."_

"Thanks, Uncle Joe." The two Dawsons' both hung up, and Angelo got up to fix a quick, portable dinner. He'd set up outside … yeah, the Tubbs' residence … and stake it out just in case he wasn't the only one who'd noticed young Martin's miraculous revival …

… He was only a half an hour late …


	5. Chapter 5

**Time and Tide**

_A Crossover Collaboration by: A J & TNT_

Prince Caleb stepped to his mother's side in her throneroom. "A message has arrived from the Poseidon Colony, from father," he told her, passing her a scroll. Nerissa took it with raised brows.

"I wonder what your father thought so important he sent it ahead of him? He and my old teammates were due back soon themselves." She unrolled the stiff parchment. _"'__Hope __this __finds __you __well, __we __shall __see __you __soon, __Cassidy __sends __her __regards, __and__'_ Well, this doesn't make any sense ..."

"What is it, Mom?" Caleb asked.

"'_Standard __Disclaimer __Applies__'__?_ His note has a warranty? That's just silly." She turned to look at her lady-in-waiting. "Miss Mina, prepare the royal bedchamber. My husband returns."

"Yes, your majesty," the red-haired Altermere of the last Quintessence Guardian said with a bow of her head, and went to her task.

Outside the Gem that contained them, Julian gave a wan smile to Cassidy and the other surviving members of C.h.k.y.m. "Rissi sends her regards," he said with a grin.

Chapter Five:

"Evening, my little bear claw!" Martin practically sang when Irma answered her door.

"_Shhhsh! __Keep __it __down!__"_ She made several furtive motions, none of which got any particular message across. "My brother's in the next room!" Irma whispered, stepping out. She was already dressed for their date, in one of her nicer leftover blues dresses from that Halloween night three years ago. The effect wasn't lost on Martin, who stood on her porch, torn between a whistle and a slack-jawed gape. The effect left him doing a good impersonation of a fish gasping for water. Irma the Water Guardian was sorely tempted to grant the implied wish with an offhand blast of her Element. She fought down the urge with herculean effort, (but only after a microsecond's fantasizing) when she realized she didn't want to be on a date with 'The Incredible Melting Boy'. Her mini-daydream did show her something was missing from the young man next her though.

"Hey, Martin? Where're your extra eyes?" Irma asked. As far back as she could remember, Martin had always worn glasses – until tonight.

"Huh? Oh, they broke this morning, and I haven't gotten them to the optometrist's, that's all." Martin gave Irma the adoring grin he saved just for her, and they walked down to the corner bus stop.

Martin paid both their fares with a gallant – if goofy – grin, and bade the driver, "To the mall, my good man, and don't spare the horsepower." Gene the bus driver (Irma recognized him from the last few rainy weeks, when she'd been stuck taking the bus everywhere) just smiled benignly back, shut the door, and merged into traffic.

The pair of teens got off at the Heatherfield mall a while later along with half the bus-riders. As they walked into the pyramidal food court, Irma glanced around_.__ '__Good, __no __sign __of __the __girls __… __nope. __Haveta __amend __that; __there__'__s __Cass.__'_

Pretending she hadn't seen her predecessor, Irma poked Martin in the shoulder. "You seriously want to do this 'dinner and a move' date thing?" She glanced his way as he reached absentmindedly up to adjust the nonexistent glasses on his nose. _'__Heh, __you __can __take __the __geek __outta __the __photo __lab __…'_

Three steps later, Martin stiffened as if he'd been shot. He glared around as he let out his breath in a hiss. _'__The __frak __was_ that?' he wondered. The headache he'd woken up with in the family minivan earlier was back with a vengeance.

Irma barely noticed Martin's behavior, because Cassidy had almost fallen out of her chair. At the same time, the pair of people sitting at her table had both stood up in a rush, and the woman looked like she was glaring right at Irma!

"Hey, Martin, let's go say hi to Cass before we get food." Irma grabbed his hand and led her recalcitrant date straight through the food court.

As sudden as the pain in her gut had hit Cassidy, it was gone. She looked up at the tense faces of her new compatriots, Amanda and Nick, and wondered what had these two otherwise-assured people suddenly so worried. _'__May __as __well __ask,__'_ she figured, and so she did.

"That pain in your gut?" Amanda murmured. "You learn to trust that; it'll keep you alive, darling. That's your quickening reacting to another of us nearby. I just can't tell who…" Amanda clammed up as Irma Lair and a miserable Martin Tubbs came up next to Cassidy.

"Been a while, Cassiedile," Irma spouted, as she stepped to the former Water Guardian's side. She noticed Cass was still holding her stomach. "How are ya?"

"I've been better, Irmagator," Cassidy replied, and gave her Elemental cousin a handclasp ... and a bagillion telepathic messages.

All Irma managed to return was a huge mental question mark, to which Cassidy only sighed, and sent _"__Later.__"_ Irma moved just her eyes in a nodding motion and let go of her predecessor's hand.

"'Manda?" Nick whispered, seeing how tense Amanda had become. She gave him a hand motion – one the pair had found that meant wait in both their divergent background – and concentrated.

That damned feeling was back from the morgue, like Cassidy's Quickening was filling the room. Amanda tried to pinpoint the cause this time, remembering cautionary tales Duncan, Conner, Cassandra, and Methos had told of Immortals with extra abilities. First they had to get rid of the extras in this little drama, though.

Stepping forward, Amada cleared her throat. "Who're your friends, Cass?"

Cassidy's sense of humor reared its head. "My cousin's cousin, Irma, and her eternal love-slave, Martin," she chirped. "Irma, Martin, these are Nick and Amanda. They're …"

"We work at the college," Amanda said, before the red-head could give anything away … or make up something she couldn't manage to fake. "I'm her new faculty advisor, and Nick here …"

"Let me guess … Campus Security," Irma interrupted. Daughter of a family of cops, Irma could spot one at a thousand paces by now.

"Good call," Nick said. It was a cover he could pull off; he'd been just that while still in the academy.

"So why're you guys here?" Martin asked.

"Even faculty advisors need to eat," Amanda said flippantly, waving a hand to indicate the surrounding food court. "What's good, kids?" There, safe topic and guaranteed diversion all in one.

"Sbarro's™ is the best thing here ..." Irma tried to tell them, before Cassidy interrupted.

"You know, I suddenly want Chinese ... but the best place is about a mile from here. It's called The Silver Dragon. I know the owners…"

"And half the staff," Irma interjected. She'd just started working weekends waiting tables with her best friend Hay Lin. She and Cass traded insider's smiles.

"Go ahead and get us some food, Irma. I'm gonna hit the kiosk and see if I can get some aspirin. My head's killing me all of a sudden." Martin meandered towards the information and customer service desk in the center of the food court.

"Ohmigod, you guys really _are_ on a date!" Cassidy practically squealed, standing and pulling Irma into a hug.

"Shhhh! Keep it down!" Irma hissed back. She still hadn't seen any of the rest of W.I.T.C.H. … or the Grumper sisters, the school gossips … but she wasn't taking any chances. "Go, get some egg drop on me, just … keep it on the down-low, okay?" she pleaded, and Amanda and Nick both had to turn to hide their grins.

"So… what _else_ are you two up to for the night? " Cass continued teasingly. Irma sighed.

"The new Vance Michael Justin movie's a sci-fi junkie's wet dream, according to Hay-hay. I figure it's the one film that won't drive one of us – or both – nuts before the end of the flick." Irma grinned back at her. "It doesn't hurt Martin actually likes Vance."

"Alright, you two be good now." Cassidy said, pulling away. "I'll catch ya later after your show, Irmagator." She added telepathically, _"__Get __W.I.T.C.H. __together __later __tonight, __Irma. __Have __I __got __a __surprise __for_ you!"

"_Gotcha, __Cass. __Is __it __big __enough __to __gather __C.H.K.Y.M. __as __well?__"_ "I better get a move on food. The movie starts in half an hour."

"Yeah, better fast food than having to fill up on popcorn."_ "__At __least __the __Lin __twins __... __and __get __Corny __to __bring __the __cat. __Napoleon __may __have __heard __something __pertinent.__"_

"See ya in a while Cassiedile," Irma told her as the two Water girls parted ways. Irma was just turning to head to Sbarro's™ after all when Cassidy hurried back to her table to grab her pocketbook.

It was the original reason she'd been hurrying home earlier that day, and Cass had retrieved it when she, Amanda, and Nick went to her home in hopes of beating the police to informing Emily MacLean that her only daughter (even if she thought Cassidy was her granddaughter now) was dead again. Fortunately, her lack of identification had worked in her favor there.

As she returned to the table, that now-familiar twist in her gut came over her again, and she looked around to see who was where in relation to her this time.

…to see Martin Tubbs across the food court, holding his head anew…


	6. Chapter 6

**Time and Tide**

_A Crossover Collaboration by: A J & TNT_

Hugh had been having the most glorious time. The limo, the casino, the girls, the drugs, it had all been wonderful … and then the short-haired harridan had come along, unceremoniously yanked him out of the luxurious greenroom, forced a half a shirt on him, and propelled him onstage with just a whispered _"Knock 'em dead, Rog!"_

Standing under the glaring lights in a sleeveless silk vest with billowing ruffles down the front, Fitz grabbed the microphone stand to steady himself. The band behind him started into a riff, the crowd below the stage started going nuts, and the MC of the evening yelled out, "Ladies and gentlemen of Las Vegas, I give you … THE WHO!"

Barely recognizing the song, Hugh Fitzcairn caught the mike the MC tossed him, and started to scream "HELLO!"s to the crowd, while trying to remember lyrics that matched the music playing behind him. Then it hit him, and he grooved along as Tommy to the 'Pinball Wizard'.

As the song ended, he saw a hauntingly similar face in the crowd, and knew what had happened. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'll be right back. Then we'll _really_ get this party started!" He leaped down, seized the genuine frontman of The Who, and whisked backstage before anyone else could comment on the sudden twins amongst them. Turning to Daltry, he ripped the shirt off the man's back, shimmied out of the silk nothing the harridan had shoved him into, and handed it over with a grin. "Knock 'em dead, _Rog_." His dumbfounded doppleganger barely had a chance to gape at Fitz before the MC came and dragged _him_ up on the stage.

As he was leaving quietly out a backstage door, the harridan accosted Hugh again. "What are you _doing?!_ Get back on _stage_, Rog!" Fitz grinned.

"Rog _is_ on stage, you loony wench," he said good-naturedly. When she continued to glare at him, he pulled her in for a bruising kiss, muttered _"Standard disclaimer applies,"_ against her lips, and disappeared out the door.

Chapter 6:

Angelo had driven to the mall in desperation. With his minimal knowledge of his quarry, he'd looked at the Heatherfield Library and the chain bookstore nestled between the Hospital and the Museum a mile away, before bowing to the inevitable and going to the town's most obvious teen hangout. Parking at the entrance that boasted the food court and cinema, Angelo locked his new Dodge Charger up and started in. He was brought to a standstill twenty steps later by the sight of Nick, Amanda, and a mystery redhead who looked like the primary victim of their traffic accident earlier that afternoon.

'_No way…_' He stepped behind the nearest SUV and concentrated, listening for any possible conversation from the trio. Nor was he disappointed.

"I can't believe it!" Cassidy was sputtering in the (thankfully empty!) parking lot. "Geeky, scrawny, normal _Martin? Immortal?!"_

"Keep it to yourself, darling," Amanda sounded distracted, Angelo noticed. He could tell Nick thought so too. The former Toronto cop was only half-paying attention around him, or he would have spotted Angelo right away.

As was, Angelo slowly edged himself around the SUV so he fell into only Nick's line of sight, and waited for the detective to meet his gaze. With a nod of acknowledgement and a flash of the Watcher's tattoo on the back of his wrist, Angelo let Nick know what, if not who, he was, and gave another nod towards his Charger. Then he slipped back that way himself to wait.

Nick Wolfe arrived at the blue Charger a couple moments later, "What's up?" he asked without preamble.

"Hey, Nick. I'm Angelo. I'm Martin's Watcher. The kid gave me the slip at his house, but I guessed right after all, it sounds like. Where'd you see him last?" Nick dropped his head, chuckling.

"Your boy's catching a movie with his girlfriend. Her name's Irma, and I think she's a cousin of our other rookie, Cassidy." Nick gave a nod at where Cassidy and Amanda were quietly chatting themselves, next to Nick's many-times refurbished Ford Bronco. "We'll have to meet later to sort it all out, I'm sure, but for now ..." Nick stuck his hand out, and Angelo shook it with a grin.

"Hey, I'm local; just come down Six Street, south of the river, and look for my blue baby, here," Angelo told him. "My uncle Joe's supposed to send a care package of Watcher tools and a referred tutor for Martin in a day or two. You two are welcome to camp out at my place while you're here in Heatherfield."

"Careful, we may just take you up on that," Nick replied. "At least until we find somewhere for ourselves. 'Til then … Angelo, right?" The paramedic nodded.

"Angelo Dawson."

"Thanks Angelo," Nick said and walked back to the waiting women.

Amanda was just telling Cass about the number-one rule of Immortality: "There can be only one," and the lengths some of the less-scrupulous amongst their number would go to advance in The Game. "Have you ever used a sword?"

"Er, no … but I'm familiar with the basics," Cassidy replied. "I've got a friend who's a real fan of Renaissance festivals. Let's just say I've seen more than my fair share of up-close sparring."

"Well, we're about to expand on that education, young lady." Amanda turned to Nick. "What did your friend want?"

"Oh, he was looking for Martin. He's his Watcher. Angelo … Dawson, I think he said was his name."

"Little Angie?" Amanda chuckled. "All grown up and in the family business, I see."

"You know him?"

"I used to _babysit_ him," Amanda replied. "Back when Duncan and Joe were both pretending to be 'just folks,' and his sister Katie needed someone to keep an eye on her son while she was still … 'trying to save her marriage', I believe is the phrase."

"TMI," Cassidy uttered, shaking her head. "So… what's a Watcher?"

"A Watcher," Nick began, "is a mortal who keeps track of a specific Immortal. Watchers are part of a secret society, who observe and record the exploits of their subjects, but …" He sighed. "We're sworn never to interfere …" Nick held up his left arm, showing Cassidy a tattoo of a stylized 'W' inside a circle on his wrist.

"Soooo ... if 'Manda and I were to get into it right here and now, you'd just stand back and watch us slaughter each other?" Cassidy asked wickedly.

"_**NO**__!_" Nick hissed, glaring at the unrepentant redhead. Amanda laughed.

"And here I thought you only got that irate with me, love," she teased.

"So who's my Watcher?" Cass asked.

"Ah, I don't think you've got one assigned to you yet," Nick hedged, grimacing.

"Why not?"

"Well, no one's reported your first death," he continued.

"Uh, actually, yes they have …" she countered, spinning one toe of her spare pair of running shoes in the dirt. "But it was forty years ago."

"Wait … forty years?" Amanda demanded, even while Nick was grabbing his laptop out of his Bronco's backseat.

"Cassidy … MacLean, right?" he queried, typing her name into the Watcher's database. Cass nodded, peeking over his shoulder. She still didn't get the whole computer concept yet, even thought the W.I.T.C.H. girls had been helping with her re-education in modern living. "Hmm … nothing. So, who knows you're dead, but not?"

"Oh, everyone knows I died; it was a … skiing accident …" Cassidy looked away, and inward. Even after all this time, Nerissa's betrayal still rankled. "Everyone … everyone thinks I'm my own long-lost daughter." She faked a giggle and naughty grin. "I certainly spread myself around in those days. 'Course, it _was_ the sixties."

"Ah, beatniks, peace rallies, and free love, eh?" Amanda said, nodding knowingly.

"Yeah …" Cass replied, thinking of the worlds–spanning missions she and C.H.K.Y.N. had been spending 'the summer of love' on instead. Including her final one …

"So who knows the truth?" Nick asked.

"Well my best friends from back then knew," Cassidy admitted. "They were there at the time it happened. Yanni …" She gulped haltingly. "Yanni had to identify the body …"

"If you've died before, why'd you ask me about your leg?" Amanda asked.

"Oh, ah … well, I remember the car hitting me this time. Back then, all I remember was we were at the top of the slope, there was a crack of thunder, and the next thing I know, I'm back from the dead."

"Ouch," Amanda uttered, giving Nick a sad look.

"Yeah, but I'll take coming back surrounded by my best friends in the infinite dimensions to another trip to the morgue any day," Cass countered.

"Hey, at least we're out of Toronto," Nick chuckled. "I swear the M.E. was this close to losing her mind ..." He held up thumb and forefinger less than a centimeter apart. At Cassidy's blank look, he added, "We went through a few weeks back when Amada and I first met where several of her old … acquaintances ... treated the morgue like a cheap hotel with a revolving door." Amanda couldn't help her laugh, and Cassidy, picturing the possible misadventures of Amanda's likely bevy of 'old acquaintances,' started snickering as well.

"Oh, man, we've got to get your old friends and mine together to compare notes someday," the Water-girl muttered, her usual sense of humor restored.

"Well, the ones that would get the joke anyway, darling," Amanda replied, chuckling.

"Alright, let's go get us some Chinese, and I'll show you two around," Cassidy said.

"Sounds like a plan," Nick returned, opening the doors on the passenger side of his Bronco for the two women.

"Whah, thaink you, kahnd suh!" Amanda said in her best Southern Belle accent with a grin. She gave him a kiss on the cheek before stepping up into the truck. Cass giggled quietly at their display as she got into the back seat. Nick handed her his laptop, for return to its case on the seat next to her. "Next, we'll have to find the right place for your fighting lessons," Amanda continued.

"I think I know just the spot," Cassidy replied. "I'll add it to the tour."

… she didn't foresee just how strange that detour would be …


	7. Chapter 7

**Time and Tide**

_A Crossover Collaboration by: A J & TNT_

Crossing the border from Canada to New York on an unmonitored back road, (to avoid Immigration,) Kurgan swerved through traffic on his way to New York City. Halfway through some hamlet in the backwoods north of Albany, he screeched to a halt as his Quickening reacted to another immortal nearby. Swinging wide into the gas station in the Ford pickup he'd 'borrowed' back in Rochester, he whipped his head around, looking for the other immortal. The angry man coming his way from the gas station's repair bay was a likely candidate, especially when he recognized him.

"Well, well, well; John Smith. I thought the Thames took you when I took your head." He grabbed his sword off the seat next to him.

"All you took was my voice," the Englishman croaked, brandishing a tire iron. Fortunately, it was near closing time for the small town, and no one was around to witness their duel.

It was short, and brutal, but the Kurgan was at the top of his game, and Smith was wielding the wrong weapon against the Siberian's greatsword. _"There can be only one!" _rang out as John Smith breathed his last, this time forever.

Climbing back in his pickup, now without headlights or windows in the aftermath of Smith's Quickening, Kurgan turned back towards New York City. A leftover phrase burbled up from the memories he'd absorbed with Smith's essence. "Heh. _Standard disclaimer applies_, for sure."

Chapter 7:

Irma and Martin came out of the theater in the gathering dark, "So what did you think of VMJ's newest, Irma-squirma?" The blond boy asked, while giving the door a finishing push against the wind.

"Well, the FX were a bit overdone, but the soundtrack's a decent draw. Vance won't be ashamed his name's attached to it a dozen years from now, at least." Irma finished off her soda and made a reputable two-point throw into the nearby trashcan with the empty cup. Martin gave off an amused "HA!" and a sincere round of golf-clapping.

She bowed theatrically, nearly dumping their leftover popcorn. "Whoops. Guess we ought to finish this, too. They really hate it when you get on the bus with food."

"Ah, but that's what over-sized pockets are for, my little butterscotch babe," Martin said, wiggling his eyebrows. He took the bag from her, closed and rolled down the top, and slid it into the long pocket of his khaki cargos. "Besides, kernels _sans_ cola is no way to dine, post theater."

Irma rolled her eyes with a grin. "Martin, your ingenuity never ceases to amaze." They linked arms and turned to head back to the bus stop, discussing VMJ's giant-robot manga-inspired blockbuster musical. Irma mentioned Daft Punk's _'Interstella 5555',_ which she'd seen recently with Hay Lin, while Martin compared it more to Michael Jackson's _'Moonwalk_'.

They were about to turn the corner from the backside of the Mall when a halitosis sufferer from the permanent underclass stepped into their path. "Not so fast kiddies. This is a toll-alley. Cough up, and nobody gets hurt." There was an ominous _'snick'_ and the drab-clothed hood in a hoodie showed them a knife.

_'Ah, jeez,'_ Irma whined mentally, _'and here the night had been going _SO_ well.'_ She started to concentrate, trying to summon a globe of water like Cass had taught her, only to silently curse that they were nowhere near any large sources of her Element.

Martin, meanwhile, had stepped in front of her protectively, "Now see here, man. What makes you think we're worth robbing? All we have on us is bus fare and popcorn."

"Which is more than I've had all day," their assailant cut in. "Give it over, along with the earrings the 8!+(# is wearing ..."

"DON'T YOU CALL HER THAT!" Martin yelled, and only Irma's hold on his arm kept him from jumping righteous-indignation-first on the uncouth youth's knife. The creep frowned sourly.

"Look, you're not worth the time an assault rap will land me. Just pay me, and I'm gone!" That gave Irma an idea of salvation.

Concentrating anew, she started to 'lean' on the other man's brain. _"Go rob somebody richer... Go rob somebody richer ..."_ she started sending over and over at him, each time more insistently.

Unfortunately, their mugger was naturally semi-resistant, and all Irma's efforts did was give him a sudden splitting headache. "Urrgh! Cut that $#!+ out, 8!+(#!" He pressed one hand to his forehead, and waved the switchblade menacingly at Irma with the other.

"I _SAID_ DON'T _CALL_ HER THAT!" Martin roared, as he leaped forward swinging his fist, taking advantage of his distracted foe - or so he thought ...

... Until the still-alert thug dropped the point of the knife into Martin's belly ...


End file.
